Page 22

Chapter 21

Deirdre

“You call it hope — that fire of fire! It is but agony of desire.” Edgar Allan Poe

“D on't move,” he orders gruffly as he slowly backs away. I shiver as Kieran's fingers trail down my spine. My breath stops for a moment, and I hear the clink of his belt buckle behind me.

I grip the edge of the table, my heart pounding. The cool surface is pressed against my flushed skin. I whimper softly, fighting the urge to push back against him. My legs quiver as he nudges them further apart. I can feel his gaze roaming over me, drinking in every inch. I comply, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

A brief moment passes until I hear him whisper.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “You're perfect like this, waiting for me.”

My breaths begin to come in small pants, like a fucking dog just waiting for a treat. My senses are overwhelmed by the anticipation. The rustle of fabric tells me he is lowering his slacks. I squirm slightly against the hard wooden edge of the table, earning another light swat on my ass.

“Patience, Miss Ravencroft,” Kieran chides as he slides my panties to the side. His fingers caress the delicate, exposed skin before pushing them inside me.

“Oh, yes. You’re ready,” he whispers, pulling them from me. I involuntarily let out a whine at the empty sensation.

I gasp when I feel the swollen head of his cock brush against me, teasing me with feather-light touches.

“Is this what you want, Miss Ravencroft?”

“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

My pussy aches with desire as I plead. I have never wanted anything so desperately in my life. I would do anything, say anything, to feel him inside me.

“Beg for my cock,” he growls. “Beg like the little slut you are.”

My eyes widen, and my lips part. I should be shocked by his words, but instead, a jolt of arousal courses straight to my core.

What is he doing to me?

I find myself needing more, so I give him what he wants.

“Please,” I cry out, trying to keep my voice down. I spread my legs wider, offering myself to him completely. “Take me. Use me.”

He tangles his fingers in my hair, gripping tightly as he uses his other hand to pin me down. As exposed as I am, I feel a thrilling wave of excitement pulsing through me.

Kieran pushes inside with a forceful thrust that makes me cry out.

He sets a punishing pace, driving into me with short, powerful strokes that make the old table creak beneath us. Each movement sends shockwaves of pleasure flowing through my body.

“You take me so well,” he praises.

“Kieran!” I moan, my fists balling up the papers beneath them on the table.

Friction and fullness build rapidly, bringing me to the edge with embarrassing speed. My climax approaches, and my muscles begin to tighten around him with each rhythmic thrust. My breaths come in ragged pants as tension coils tighter and tighter, low in my belly. I can feel myself teetering on the precipice, every nerve ending on fire.

Suddenly, Kieran withdraws, leaving me feeling empty and aching. For a split second, anxiety washes over me, thinking that we have been caught. Standing up, I look around and realize no one is here but us.

My body trembles, still on edge.

“What the he—?” I start to ask, but my voice comes out as little more than a breathy whisper. Straightening my skirt, I whip around and shoot a glare at Kieran.

His eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at me. A bead of sweat trickles down his temple.

“You don’t get to come yet,” he says as he adjusts his pants. His voice is low and husky.

“I want you to go back to your dorm room,” he orders. “Be ready for me when I get there.”

My heart pounds as I wonder what he has in mind. I can feel the heat radiating off his body as he stands over me. He trails his fingers teasingly along my inner thigh just below my skirt, making me shiver. I bite my lip, fighting the urge to beg him to continue. My skin feels electric, hypersensitive to his every touch.

“Kieran, please,” I whimper, unable to stop myself. He smirks, clearly enjoying denying my needs.

“So impatient,” Kieran murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Do as you’re told.”

My body is already obeying him before my mind fully catches up. I’m flushed, breathless, and entirely at his mercy. With a huff, I quickly pick up the mess of papers on the floor and pack my things, shoving my laptop and notebook into my bag. I don’t hesitate as I snatch my bag off the table and rush toward the exit.

My hands tremble as I pull my phone out of my purse, my fingers flying over the screen as I type out a quick text to Claire.

Deirdre: Please tell me you’ve already left for your date with Gabe.

Claire responds almost instantly.

Claire: Yep! He picked me up early. Don’t wait up…I don’t plan on coming back tonight. *wink face*

Relief floods me. Perfect.

Then, another text pops up.

Claire: Wait…why?

A slow, wicked grin spreads across my lips as I push open the heavy doors of the library and step out into the crisp night air. I don’t even have to think before I respond.

Deirdre: Let’s just say I have plans, too.

I practically hear Claire’s squeal in my head before another text pops up.

Claire: OMG. DETAILS. NOW.

I giggle to myself, but there’s no time for details. My entire focus narrows on one thing: getting back to my dorm before Kieran does.

The cool evening air does nothing to calm the heat coursing through me as I cross the courtyard. I don’t walk. I don’t even jog.

I run .

If that makes me desperate, so be it. Let me be desperate for him. Let me crave the way he takes control, the way he makes me feel like I belong to him completely.

Because I do.

And by the time he gets to me, I’ll be exactly where he wants me, waiting.

I barely register the sound of my bag hitting the floor as I step into my dorm, my pulse bounding in my ears. My hands tremble slightly as I push the door shut behind me, the adrenaline from our encounter in the library still coursing through me. The ache between my thighs grows stronger.

I can’t believe he denied me. That was his ideal punishment.

Kieran’s order lingers in my mind—be ready for him.

I know exactly what that means.

With a sharp breath, I kick off my shoes and reach for the hem of my sweater, peeling it over my head. My skirt follows, slipping down my thighs and pooling at my feet. The cool air of the dorm brushes against my bare skin, sending a shiver up my spine. I shimmy out of my bra and panties, feeling a hint of self-consciousness.

I quickly shake the feeling away, reminding myself of the way Kieran worships me.

I climb onto the bed, sinking into the mattress as I assume the position he expects of me, kneeling, hands flat against my thighs, with my head lowered. My black hair tumbles forward, cascading over my shoulders and partially shielding my face. My breaths are uneven, a mixture of nerves and excitement coiling in my stomach.

Minutes tick by. Each one stretches endlessly.

Then my phone vibrates on the bed next to me. The screen lights up with his name and message.

Professor McKnight: Are you ready?

I barely have time to process the words before the door clicks open.

The air in the room shifts, the weight of his presence filling the space even before I lift my eyes. I don’t have to look. I know it’s him. He moves with a controlled, deliberate energy, the door locking softly behind him as he steps forward.

I hear the rustle of fabric, the slow, meticulous way he peels off his layers, the faint clink of his belt unfastening. I keep my head bowed, my heart pounding in my chest.

Then, he threads his fingers through my hair, tilting my face upward. My breath catches as my eyes meet his.

Kieran smiles, loving and approving. His gaze drinks me in, his thumb grazing the curve of my jaw before trailing down the column of my throat.

“You look stunning like this,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction.

His touch lingers, tracing the chills that erupt on my skin, the anticipation humming between us like a live wire.

For a moment, he steps out of our dynamic. “In the library, what color would you say that was?” he inquires softly. I know he is referencing the way he spoke to me.

Smiling up at him mischievously, I reply. “Fucking green… Professor . Next question.”

He throws his head back and lets out a loud laugh. When I hear the sound, I realize this is the first time I’ve actually heard him laugh.

A warm feeling spreads through me at the knowledge that I’m the source of his happiness, even if what we have may very well be fleeting.

Attempting to shake that thought from my head, I slowly run my hands up his slacks to his already unclasped buckle. I give it a slight tug, loosen his trousers, and free his hard length from its fabric prison.

Kieran groans in satisfaction and tightens his grip on my hair, tilting my head back.

There he is. Back in his role.

“Take what you want, Miss Ravencroft.” He smirks, looking down at me.

Wrapping my hand around the base, I part my lips, my tongue darting out to wet them. Leaning forward, I run my tongue in slow circles around the swollen crown of his cock, eliciting a hiss from Kieran.

“Open,” he growls. “I need to fuck that mouth.”

Kieran guides himself between my lips. I hollow my cheeks, sucking eagerly as he begins to thrust.

“That's it,” he groans. “Take it all like a good little slut.”

My stomach flips.

Dammit. That word is my undoing.

I moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder. His hips snap faster as I suck harder, pulling him deeper to the back of my throat.

I work him with my tongue, savoring his unique taste. His hips begin to move faster. With each thrust, I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes. I push my mouth down further, forcing myself to gag around him. An animalistic growl rises from his chest as he tilts his head back, reveling in the sensation.

“Fuck. Hearing you choke on my cock…You love this, don't you?” Kieran pants, his hips begin to stutter.

I smile up at him with my eyes, urging him on.

I feel Kieran trembling above me, his breathing heavy and ragged. My jaw aches pleasantly as I work my mouth on him, my eyes fixed on his face, watching the way his expression tightens with his approaching orgasm.

Suddenly, the hand gripping my hair gently pulls me back. “Wait,” he gasps, his voice strained. “Tilt your head back. Open your mouth.”

I do as he asks, my heart racing as I look up at him, lips parted.

“I want to paint your pretty face,” he grunts, his voice thick with desire.

The intimacy of the moment makes my cheeks flush with heat. I keep my mouth open wide, my tongue slightly extended, watching his face as his control finally breaks. The warm liquid falls across my tongue, and I moan softly at the taste of him, trying desperately to catch every drop.

Kieran gently releases my hair. He looks down, admiring the view before him. “Fuck.”

As I swallow, I can feel small remnants dripping down my chin to my throat. He smirks and glides his finger up my neck, catching the excess.

“Open,” he demands, gently caressing my lips.

I do without hesitation and eagerly swipe my tongue around his finger.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans. He slowly pulls his finger from my mouth and walks over to my tiny dorm bathroom. He disappears for a second behind the door, and I hear the sink water running.

When he reemerges, he has a small white towel in his hand. “Your water truly doesn’t get hot.”

He chuckles as he saunters back over to me. I take in the view of him naked and still half hard. For a man in his forties, he hasn’t neglected the gym.

Kieran’s touch is incredibly gentle as he presses the lukewarm, damp towel to my skin, wiping away the remnants of our shared moment with a care that makes my chest ache. My eyes flutter closed, savoring the quiet intimacy, the way his fingertips delicately ghost over my cheek and down my jaw. The warmth soothes me, but it’s the tenderness in his movements that undoes me the most. When I finally open my eyes, he’s watching me. His expression is soft and unguarded. And in that moment, I know he is mine just as much as I am his.

I let out a slow, shaky breath as Kieran sets the towel aside and climbs on the bed, sitting back against the headboard. His dark eyes are filled with a heated desire that makes my pulse race. He motions for me with two fingers, and like an obedient puppy, I crawl over to him, kneeling between his spread legs. He leans over, and his strong hands find my waist as he guides me onto his lap, straddling him. My knees sink into the mattress on either side of him, and my hands splay against his bare chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath my fingertips.

“I'm sorry I kind of took over there,” he murmurs, his voice thick, warm like honey. “But now, I want you in control. Take what you need from me, Miss Ravencroft.”

A rush of heat pools in my stomach at his words. He watches me patiently, always making sure I want this as much as he does.

And God, do I.

I slide my hands up the back of his neck, fingers tangling into his tousled hair, and lean in, my lips barely grazing his. A tease. His breath hitches, his hands tightening at my hips, but he doesn’t take control. He lets me lead.

So I kiss him, deep and slow, pouring every ounce of emotion into it, every ounce of longing and devotion I have for him. He groans against my mouth, his fingers pressing bruises into my skin, but still, he lets me lead. I roll my hips experimentally, and the sharp exhale he releases makes me dizzy with power. His cock begins to harden against my aching pussy.

“Christ, Deirdre,” he rasps, his lips dragging along my jaw, down to the sensitive skin just below my ear. “You’re driving me insane.”

“Good,” I whisper, nipping at his bottom lip. “Now you know how I feel.”

His laughter is low as he allows me to push him further into the mattress, surrendering to me completely.

I rise up on my knees, hovering over Kieran. His eyes lock onto mine, his hands never leaving my hips. I hold his gaze as I slowly lower myself, guiding him to my entrance. A small gasp escapes my lips as I sink down, taking him inside me, inch by delicious inch.

“Fuck,” Kieran groans.

I place a finger over his lips. “Shh,” I whisper. “I’m in control, Professor.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies softly, leaning his head back against the headboard.

Placing my hands on his chest for leverage, I begin to move, setting a languid pace. Up and down, rolling my hips in slow circles. Kieran’s hands begin to roam my body, caressing my breasts, my thighs, and my ass.

I revel in the control he’s giving me.

I lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, never breaking my rhythm.

Sweat begins to bead on my skin as my movements quicken, and the heat rises between us. I can feel myself getting closer. I’ve been teetering on the edge of a mind-blowing orgasm for what feels like an eternity.

I can feel the tension building, my body trembling as I rock my hips against Kieran. My breaths come in ragged gasps. “Please,” I beg, “touch me.”

One of his hands grips my waist again, grounding me in place. His other hand slips between us, his fingers circling my clit. He starts with soft circles, but with each thrust, he applies more pressure. The sensation elicits a feral cry from my lips as I dig my nails into his chest. I grind my hips down, taking him deeper.

Kieran’s eyes are dark with desire. “Come for me,” he growls. “Fuck me harder. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

His words push me over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over me as I cry out his name, my body clenching around him. I quicken my movements to a frantic pace, riding out my orgasm. Kieran thrusts his hips upward, his body tensing as he spills another release inside me.

We collapse together, breathless and spent. I nestle against Kieran’s chest, his cock still inside me, and I listen to his racing heartbeat gradually slowing.

I can feel the weight of sleep pulling me under, my body warm and relaxed against Kieran’s. His arm is draped over my waist, his fingertips drawing lazy circles against my skin. I sigh contentedly, sinking deeper into the haze of exhaustion, my eyelids fluttering closed.

But then he shifts, his muscles tensing as he presses a soft kiss to my temple.

“Deirdre,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost regretful. He nudges me gently, coaxing me out of my sleepy daze. “I can’t stay.”

I make a small noise of protest, burrowing closer into his chest, relishing in the scent of sex on his skin.

“Stay,” I mumble, my voice thick with exhaustion. “Just for a little while.”

He chuckles, but it’s soft, tinged with reluctance.

“You know I can’t,” he says, brushing my hair back from my face. “If anyone catches me here…”

I sigh, knowing he’s right but hating it all the same. I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, my lips pouting slightly.

“I hate this,” I admit.

Something in his eyes flickers, his expression soft and unguarded.

“Me too,” he says, then leans down, capturing my lips in a slow, lingering kiss. That one simple kiss feels full of promise, even as he’s pulling away.

“Get some rest, Miss Ravencroft,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

He slips from my bed, dressing quickly in the dim light. I watch him, my heart aching in a way I don’t want to acknowledge. As he reaches for the door, he glances back at me one last time, a small smirk playing at his lips.

Then he’s gone, and the room feels just a little colder without him in it.